


Into the Highland Mist

by pony_express



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Classical Music, Comment Fic, Community: comment_fic, M/M, Musicians, Rock Star AU, Scottish places names, Sorry Not Sorry, and the Scottish Highlands, because I like trains apparently, but totally not bite sized, classical musician Stephen Strange, rock star Tony Stark, rocker and classical musician AU, too much train information
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 02:00:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20368783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pony_express/pseuds/pony_express
Summary: Prompt from nagi_schwarz over at comment_fic on livejournal "Marvel Cinematic Universe, Stephen Strange +/ Tony Stark, Classical musician + Rocker AU"It’s beautifully stupid Stephen waited for the scenery outside the window to inspire him when he didn’t need that view at all. The view inside the carriage was more inspiring.





	1. Into the Highland Mist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nagi_schwarz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/gifts), [TchallaForever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TchallaForever/gifts).

> Also inspired by Rotten Omega here - https://rotten-omega.tumblr.com/post/186576475305

“You need help with that?” 

Stephen barely acknowledges the guy behind him as he tries to haul his violin case alongside his suitcase. It’s like a game of Tetris, and although Stephen is struggling he isn’t going to admit it. Once the suitcase has been punched into place, Stephen turns slightly and mumbles a response to the guy about how the luggage rack is too full for his stuff. Being in First Class Stephen assumed less seats, less need for the luggage rack but apparently the Toffs needed to pack their entire house.

Stephen double checks his tickets to make sure he was sitting in the correct seat, and began to settle in. Firstly writing in his diary, although Stephen, if asked would refer to it as his notebook and inspiration/ideas book. Good, no one sat next to him. Someone sat opposite him, but the table was huge, plenty of space.

He was well into explaining to future him about his intentions and goals for his trip when giggling aroused him. He looked up to see a gaggle of girls all swooning around the guy sat opposite across the aisle.

“Oh my GOD!! TONY STARK!” one shouted. And the rest seemed to swoon and giggle at that for some silly reason.

Stephen rolled his eyes. He was annoyed by the interruption Stephen was on this lengthy train trip from London to Inverness in the Scottish Highlands to try and spark an almost dry patch of inspiration. The route was long and apparently beautiful, and Stephen hoped the romance of travelling the route would open the flood gates to his eventual masterpiece. The giggling group eventually left, mostly because the first class hosts where coming through with the food trolley. The guy opposite was all smiles and cocky, and Stephen was very annoyed by him.

But he noted the crew were also under his spell, and curiosity took hold. Stephen could hardly believe he was Googling the guy opposite.

Oh, fantastic! The guy was a rockstar! A freaking rocker! No wonder he had attitude, and sat like he owned the place. Playboy!

Stephen tried his best to ignore his curiosity, and willed himself to stop looking at him! Chances are he is getting off at Edinburgh, for the festival, and Stephen can still enjoy the scenery of the Highlands. He hopes.

But Edinburgh is four hours, and two crew changes away, and Stephen spends those hours being unable to get away from the rocker. He hates that attitude and behaviour, but Tony actually surprises him in how polite he is to those working the various trolleys. 

Stephen tries to put thoughts of Tony aside - was difficult with him being sat opposite, his long legs in his too tight pants crossing and uncrossing every so often in the most sensual way. His husky voice saying please, and thank you, and chatting up the ladies (and gentlemen) of the crews. Everything about him was driving Stephen wild because he was annoyed by it, he told himself, but he knew deep in the depths of his mind he was intrigued by it, and actively looking towards Tony at times during the journey.

The route, for now at least offered nothing worthy of note, and so Stephen felt the only thing of interest was within the carriage. Not Tony exactly, but equally Stephen couldn’t tell you who was sat directly opposite from him on his shared table. He couldn’t tell you the colours of the cases in the racks above - despite two of them belonging to him.

Another town of concrete and another crew of flirt candidates for Tony. Stephen knew the route was long, part of the reason he wanted to go this way. He knew the pay off when he got to the Highlands would be worth a thousand of these cities but he just wanted to get started. He wanted the annoying Stark boy to leave at Edinburgh and the rest of the train to peter out until it was just him and the scenes, and the inspiration he needed.

He had tried to write, of course he had. Partly to take his mind off how boring this part of the journey was, and partly to remove Tony from his head. He hated that he was taking up so much thinking time!

Finally, Edinburgh was announced, and as he predicted, Tony made for the exit. In his over blown, look at me now sort of way. Tony stretched long and loud, and went to the luggage rack. Stephen’s eyes briefly followed him to check that Tony was off, but didn’t want to give Tony any more of his time and attention. Pretty soon the highlight of this route would be in the window and his masterpiece would be written.

Stephen began to draw out more sketch lines. Inspo could hit at any time and Stephen wanted to be ready. He was so invested in drawing these lines that he didn’t notice Tony was still on board.

“Sorry, my dear!”

Stephen blushed as if Tony was directly speaking to him. He quickly gathered himself and sighed. He risked a look back and found Tony talking to an old lady. He was moving suitcases around the luggage rack for her. Stephen grew red, still reeling from his earlier embarrassment, and now to see rock god flashy pants actually helping old ladies with their suitcases! Stephen was again annoyed by Tony’s actions, but equally annoyed by his response to Tony’s actions.

As predicted though, the carriage had suffered a mass exodus! And had almost received the same number of new passengers. However Stephen’s 4 seater table remained empty, hey! When did the businessman get off? Nevermind that now!

According to Stephen’s guide, the next city was Perth, and he expected the remaining folk, and new folk, and Tony, to perform another mass exodus there. After Perth, Stephen’s dream views came to fruition! 

Highland Perthshire was home to Killiecrackie! A beautiful gorge, tree lined with a river powering through. Oh, it sounded lust and Stephen couldn’t wait to see it. That was the edge of Highland Perthshire, after that he was technically in the Scottish Highlands themselves and who knew what was beyond that. 

Stephen didn’t. His research stopped at Soldier's Leap as he was so enthralled by what he saw on his laptop screen he didn’t want to look farther and ruin it for himself. He wanted to view the scenes with his own eyes, and let Scotland envelope his senses! 

Still, his current scenes were of buildings and cityscapes. 

He felt sure Tony winked at him as he passed by to sit back down. Stephen tried to focus squarely on the formation of the next station as the train slowed down and lines stopped looking diagonal to looking straight. 

Farkirk apparently. Stephen quickly made note of the station name in Gaelic, as he noticed the Scottish Gaelic names were under the English name. He loved that touched, and already felt Scotland welcomed him. Yes, he thought, this is the home of all the inspo he needed. Or will be, once rockerfella in his far too tight pants left him to his own thoughts. 

Still, Perth was approaching fast. Another mass exodus had happened at Stirling, which was a beautiful city, and her outskirts were too; greens for what felt like the first time since he left London, and they also lost the overhead wires too - which meant gantry posts weren’t punctuating the scenery every few seconds with their horrible greyish lines. Stephen couldn’t wait to power through Perth’s concrete cityscape and escape to uninterrupted scenes of greens, and mountains, and rivers. He was practically drooling. 

It is what you make it, Stephen told himself, as he tried to enjoy the countryside between the two cities. He’d make more of it, he decided, once leather pants boy got off.

It didn’t cross Stephen’s mind, that Tony might be heading further North. He was so engrossed with the idea that the Highlands were his for the taking, and he was going to soak up all she would give him like a sponge. There would be no should thing as a sensory overload. He wanted to experience it all. 

Upon arriving into Perth, Tony had stood to help the old lady get off. Stephen had again wrongly assumed Tony’s standing and moving to the luggage rack were the actions of someone getting off the train, and had joyfully accepted Tony’s departure. He’d leant back in the big leather seat, stretched his legs out before him and mumbled to Perth to unlock her Highland views for him, as he heard the engine power up and felt the train slowly pull out.

Like a child at Christmas Stephen rubbed his hands together in anticipation of the coming view. He knew it was glorious, but just how glorious, and how would it inspire him so was still a mystery and he was so ready to solve it. 

All that build up meant Tony was far out of his head; thinking he’d left him behind at Perth, Stephen has spread out across the table. His blank sheet music covered more than half of the space in front of him, and all of the space to the side, he also got his pencil and camera ready.

Killiecrankie was as beautiful in person as his laptop screen had shown. Somehow even better from track side!

Stephen had began to write. Little dots and dashes appeared over his badly drawn sheet music. Stephen would obviously smarten them up later, but right now, neatness wasn’t important; getting down the ideas however messy was first. Edit drunk, someone told him. You can’t edit an empty page!

After Soldiers Leap they passed through a beautiful little town of Blair Athol much too fast for Stephen to take note, but he knew the greatest show of all was coming. The highest point on the UK Rail network; The Pass of Drumochter! That was bound to be glorious. 

Stephen kept an eye on the passing greens and browns while he scribbled notes, and hummed his tune. Scotland was helping to break that out of him and it had nothing to do with rock guy. No rock guy was long gone, and so he was in Stephen’s mind until. . . 

“May I?”

His heart completely stopped as heard Tony’s voice. He rolled his eyes. Of course Tony couldn’t let him enjoy the Highlands in peace. Now half of his mind was going to be on Tony, and not wholeheartedly on the view where it should be.

Suddenly rock guy is leaning over Stephen’s sheet music like his old violin teacher. Sunglasses at the end of his nose, all smiles and puppy dog eyes. Not going to wash with Stephen.

For the second time since leaving Perth, a childish streak takes over Stephen and he hides his scribbles like it’s a test paper. Tony is still there watching him, and it occurs to Stephen he needs to answer. He licks his lips in preparation but slowly shakes his head as a way of response instead.

Tony simply smiles back at him, and lets his sheet music down slowly. He sits back down, under Stephen’s watchful, patience stare, and Tony feels that, plays on that; almost seductively sitting. He winks at Stephen, which doesn’t break his stare. Stephen slowly turns back to the views, and his sheet music. Once his scribbling again he barely takes any notice of Tony until. . .

That’s. . . That’s his tune. The notes he is writing are coming out as sound, and Stephen feels like the magic of Scotland as truly got him. This sensory overload is turning his pencil scratchings into actual music that fills his head, and the whole carriage. Scotland was magic!

Stephen closes his eyes and allows the tune to envelope him. It fills the whole carriage. . . Fills. The. Whole. Carriage. . . 

He opens the eye closest to Tony, and sees the rock god, spread out in the leather seat, guitar in his lap, slowly strumming. Slowly strumming Stephen’s music. . . He’s about to say something. He told Tony no, although he didn’t use actual words, he said no when Tony asked if he could play. But Stephen was in awe. Not only could Tony actually read sheet music, a rarity in rock stars these days he felt, but Tony actually remembered Stephen’s notes, and was recalling them. 

Tony played beautifully. Stephen was proud his tune actually carried, and fitted with the blurry scenes of the Highlands that played on in the window behind him, not that he was looking that way anymore. Tony had once again stolen his sight. Although Stephen had gone back to closing his eyes and feeling the tune.

Drumochter Pass passed, and Stephen didn’t get a shot, didn’t even pay the wooden and iron sign standing there quietly, domanatily marking out the highest point on the network, for Stephen was on a literal mental high. 

The sounds of Stephen’s Highlands is poetic. Stephen is proud; almost moved to tears hearing his pencil marks taking life at the hands of Tony Stark! 

Tony stops, and Stephen opens his eyes with a huge smile.

“That’s all you wrote, kid!” 

Stephen lets the kid comment slide although his mind takes far too long to let it go; we’re about the same age it screams at him as Stephen sits open mouthed waiting for his head to tell him how to actually proceed.

“Tony” and a hand is offered, although Tony doesn’t stand. Rather leans over to the centre aisle, balancing his guitar in a peculiar way. “Tony Stark.”

Stephen again has to stop himself from saying, _“I know”_ and waits for far too long before also moving without leaving his seat much to accept Tony’s hand and say, “Stephen. Stephen Strange.”

Tony asks if Stephen’s up for the romance of the Highlands, and it takes Stephen far longer than it should to realise Tony is asking about the influence of his music rather than if Stephen was there to find love, and offering him that. Although, to be fair to Stephen this is how Tony was flirting with the small girl with the mousy hair working the drinks trolley. 

Stephen finds it amazingly easy to talk to Tony. They talk for what feels like hours as the gorgeous village of Kingussie and Aviemore pass them by. They talk music and inspirations. Tony is, of course, multitalented. And can also play the violin and keyboard amongst others. Stephen imagines Tony playing his baby! His violin! A thought that leaves him smiling as he replies with ease and honestly to Tony’s almost never ending questions.

Turns out, Tony is also up in the Highlands to relight his dry patch, but is going further. To the almost very tip of Scotland. And Stephen feels a pang of guilt for how he wished Tony off at every stop, and now his journey is coming to an end, Tony’s still isn’t. 

“The Highlands has that romance” Stephen agreed. He has a few more scenic train journeys of Scotland on his list, doing the “Far North” and “Kyle Line” over the next few days. He hopes that his travel plans coincide with Tony’s, although he never directly asks Tony for a breakdown of his plans; how many days, where abouts higher than Inverness actually is, and when he was travelling back. However it felt to Stephen that he told Tony his exact travel plans, right down to where he was eating at and what colour his sock would be! Tony just drew those answers out of Stephen; it was so easy and natural to talk to him.

Again, Stephen felt guilty for ignoring him for so long of the journey. The one person in the whole carriage, potentially the whole train who actually understood him, and knew exactly what he was going through!

Tony was telling him about how he worked hard to break the idea that as a rock star he was stuck up. He had initially been sat in standard but had been upgraded since the first guard was all other his Avengers shit, and how Tony had helped ladies off at multiple stops because his luggage was taking up so much room, and how it was just polite, but he still felt like he needed to do it because he was responsible somehow, and how he felt like he needed to earn his seat in First; pay his way as he got a free upgrade. And how he’d hidden in the toilet after Perth because he’d been followed by a string of tweets, and a crowd had been waiting for him.

The previous Stephen would have rolled his eyes at all this. Stephen was too a victim of Tony’s inability to just pack the essentials, and his hand, as if on cue, began to hurt where he’d pushed hard against his suitcase trying to squeeze it in a too small space in the overheads. Stephen before wouldn’t have any sympathy for Tony’s fans being out of control and literally stalking him to Perth on his day off, because Stephen himself would be lucky if a single person recognised him, and was incredibly grateful for his First Class experience as he’d saved up for it; he could have flown aboard cheaper he was sure! But since speaking to Tony at length, Stephen found it horrifying that Tony had had to hide in the toilet, and quite lovely that previous guards had made Tony comfortable, and Tony was earning it back now.

Stephen began to express his sympathies as the guard announced Inverness was the next stop.

“Oh,” Tony said after the guard stopped speaking over the fuzzy PA, “I’m so sorry, Stephen, I’ve taken you away from the scenery!”

_More than you know,_ Stephen thought, but his words said, “It’s fine, I’m coming back this way again in a week.” instead. Stephen was smiling after and it felt right.

Stephen and Tony began to pack away, and Stephen laughs to himself as it dawns on him that he has spent this entire journey waiting Tony to fuck off, and now Tony was leaving, Stephen wanted him to stay. Stephen wanted to sit with him upon the Highland moors and talk until the stars faded and the sunset finally pulled their attention away from each other. _Oh, write that down,_ Stephen thought to himself. That’s poetry! That’s the effect of Tony!

Stephen turned to begin his goodbyes to Tony, and found Tony’s arm extended. In his hand was Stephen’s poorly drawn sheet music filled with dashes; his notes. 

“You keep it” Stephen nodded to him.

Tony smiled, and shoved it into his blazer pocket. Stephen winced at the treatment of his creation, but smiled at Tony’s acceptance.

“Well,” Stephen began, but again, didn’t know how to finish, so leave the word hanging in the space between them.

“Well,” Tony repeated, in exactly the same way.

Neither broke the silence for what felt like forever, until the train actually came to a halt and passengers from further down the train moved passed them to exit. They better look like they actually want to get off also, maybe. . . 

Tony swears as he battles with the overheads and breaks the spell, forcing Stephen to admit what he didn’t want to, that he’ll have to say goodbye and maybe never see Tony again. He wants to reach out to Tony and kiss him. A strange feeling. Suddenly come on. Must be the Scottish wind. . . 

He instead offers his hand while his tongue lightly dances across his mouth in preparation for what he feels is not coming, but his body doesn’t listen to reason.

“Thank you for your company,” he says, hand outstretched. 

“And yours,” Tony replies, taking Stephen hand and pulling him into a hug.

Stephen sighs heavily and falls into the hug. He allows Tony to surround him the way he envisioned the Highlands doing. He breathes in Tony’s smell as he squeezes a little too hard. The smaller man’s hugs are powerful and Stephen feels all the tension he didn’t realise he’d let built from his original annoyance at Tony melt away. Well, Tony put it there, only fair Tony removes it, he reasons.

Tony pulls back, but still keeps Stephen in his arms. It a strange experience for Stephen, and he wishes his mind would engage so he can feel the feels and write about them later. 

Tony is looking into Stephen’s eyes, and Stephen feels so intense, words can’t describe. He wants air, to breathe, to re-engage, just something. . . 

“May I?” Tony asks for the second time that trip, not that Stephen’s counting.

Stephen again licks his lips, and just like last time Tony asked that question, he is unable to use words, just moves his head in response. He nods, and moves his head in a slow but purposeful way towards Tony’s waiting slightly open mouth.

“Yes!” he finally breathes out inches from Tony’s lips. 

Tony’s lips. . . Oh Tony’s lips. They both crash into Stephen’s with urgency and smoothly, lightly brush against his in a mixture of pure poetry and ecstasy! 

. . . And, just like their arrival into Inverness, it’s over all too quickly. 

Tony leaves him there, standing mouth parted in the centre aisle, eyes closed like an idiot. Stephen mumbles the term aloud. Rock star playboys! He should have known better.

He looks down at his notebook, the last thing to pack and sees just how many pages Tony has filled. Mostly negative, Stephen regrets, but it’s something to work with, and how it’s beautifully stupid Stephen waited for the scenery outside the window to inspire him when he didn’t need that view at all. The view inside the carriage was more inspiring. Songs of love and tragedy could be written off that for years to come. Stephen smiled as he packed his notebook away. Shame, Tony ran though. . . 

Truth is, Tony can’t bare another goodbye. . . And has drawn just as much inspiration from Stephen as he’s sure Stephen as taken from him. He feels guilty but is convinced it’s best this way. 

What? Did Stephen expect them to happily skip out of the ticket barrier hand in hand into a romantic novel?

Tony quickens his speed; doesn’t want Stephen to catch up, can’t even explain his actions to himself. He puts his hand in his blazer pocket and feels the crumpled sheet music Stephen wrote. He pulls it out, unfolds it and smiles. 

He turns back to see Stephen wrestling with the door and his suitcase and violin case. He grins.

“Come on, slow coach!” he shouts in a very playful tone.

Stephen motions with his head to his various cases and juts his chin out in silent explanation, and annoyance. The train door again begins to shut on him, and Tony laughs at his struggling. 

It occurs to Stephen, Tony has been waiting for him to catch up all trip. Now he thinks he knows the rules, or is at least is aware he is playing, Stephen can’t wait for his next turn.

“Coming dear!” he replies, mirroring Tony’s tone from earlier in the journey. Mumbling to himself, Stephen repeated, with a huge smile on his face, “Oh, I’m coming for you, Tony Stark!”


	2. Within the Highland Mist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt; "Wow, you look. . . Amazing!" and I just really, _really_ wanted a scene of Tony playing Stephen's violin! ♥

“Wow, you look… amazing.” Stephen licks his lips and leans back to drink the view in completely. 

Tony, ever the rockstar, doesn’t waiver, continues to gracefully play the violin. Stephen’s violin! And that’s why the scene made Stephen’s lips wet.

They are in a hotel room overlooking the train station at which they shared their first kiss, because they were stupidly romantic, and adding to that, it was almost a year to the date.

Sheet music litters the space between Stephen, who’s sat crossed legged at the end of a double bed also scattered with paper, and Tony who’s stood, swaying in time to the tune he’s playing by the window. 

“How was that?” Tony asked, as his piece came to an end. 

“Hmm, yeah!” Stephen replied, licking his lips. Stephen wasn’t listening to the piece entirely; his focus was on watching Tony. The way he swayed was beautiful; the way he moved his hips almost hypnotic. And Stephen ran away with idea of swaying with Tony. 

Tony was looking at Stephen awaiting an answer. “You weren’t paying attention, were you?” Tony realised.

“I was!” Stephen replied, in quick defense. Feeling braver and bolder as Tony moved towards him looking dejected, “I was watching you very, very closely.” He smiled wide, and reached out to grab Tony and pull him those remaining steps into his personal space. “And I’ll let you know now, that it was very, very enjoyable.”

Stephen looked up to find Tony’s face; he was still pouting. “Stephen!” he started, slowly but firm, “It’s got to be perfect!”

“It is perfect!” Stephen almost giggled as he hands started exploring Tony’s back and arse.

Tony blushed, and tried again to explain how and why it was important for him to get the tone and tune right, but didn’t stop Stephen’s wandering hands. Instead he placed his knees on the bed beside Stephen. Stephen straightened his legs, to aid Tony’s climb upon him.

Now sat on Stephen’s lap, Tony began to slowly lower himself to be face to face with his little classical star. He finished his explanation, not that Stephen had heard a word. 

“If it’s important you too, I’ll listen again!” Stephen suggested, but with a sinister smile forming. Tony saw right through Stephen’s suggestion and rolled his eyes. He let out a sigh and a small laugh in mock amusement. “Play it again?” Stephen asks in a low hum into Tony’s neck.

Tony wiggles, it tickles. And Stephen almost _moans_ at the slight fiction Tony caused. Tony begins to form a wicked smile; it’s always the quiet ones he thinks, and Stephen with his violin and geek book is the very definition of quiet. Well, if Stephen was going to be that horny and needed, Tony could work with that.

“You only want to relive my performance. . .” Tony rolled hips, and waited to hear Stephen’s reaction. Stephen played his part beautifully; he always did, and Tony’s grin grew as he heard Stephen’s breathe hitch and felt the warmth of his breathe kiss his neck. 

“Yes,” Stephen said in a voice literally dripping in sex “God, yes! Sway for me Tony, please?”

Tony complies, simply so he can see Stephen’s reaction. And it’s glorious! 

“May I?” Tony asks, as he touches foreheads with Stephen. 

“Of course!” Stephen replies, because a simple yes just wouldn’t reinforce his stereotype. 

Tony giggles at Stephen’s response, as he far too slowly moved towards Stephen’s wet, open lips. He gazed Stephen’s lips lightly, knowing it would drive him mad; the needy nerd. 

Stephen couldn’t take it, and using his hand to guide Tony’s head closer to him, he pretty much pushed their faces together in a wet, sloppy mess. Stephen still made noises like the whore Tony was making him. 

Tony broke the hot mess, and swears he hears Stephen _whine_. 

“Seriously, Stephen!” he started. Stephen pouted but removed his hands from their free roaming of Tony. And allowed Tony that space and time to move off him. Tony didn’t move; both delighting and confusing Stephen. 

“You need me to join. . . Play along?” Stephen asked, trying to move the conversation back to where he assumed Tony wanted it.

_You already are!_ Tony thought, a smile playing on his lips. He sighed, not sure how to play this. He wanted Stephen to be serious; wanted to work together with his boyfriend to create a romantic masterpiece, but he was also enjoying unleashing Stephen’s wicked side. And Stephen’s comment could be taken either way. This playfulness was exciting and Tony really didn’t want it to stop.

He sighed, and Stephen was making hands for the music around him without moving Tony. What to do? Stephen was already moving to play music, literal music. . . Not _music_. Making both with Stephen would be enjoyable during this cold, Scottish evening.

“Here,” Stephen was pointing to his scribble, “I could. . . “ he trailed off trying to think of something he could do at that part. 

“That part’s perfect!” Tony quired without looking. He’d picked up his violin bow and was slowly, carefully cleaning it. 

Stephen let the paper fall from his hand, “What’s wrong?” he asked with some much care and worry than Tony had ever heard in anyone’s speech before. 

“I can’t decide whether to play you, or play. . . “ Tony gestured to the violin bow. 

“Play both,” Stephen whispered. “Play both, find a way, Tony!” 

Stephen let the words hang in the air, before locking eyes with Tony and grinning. He leant back and winked at Tony, letting the rock star’s mind go into overdrive. Tony loved a challenge; this could be fun! He grinned;

“OH, oh. . . Believe me I will.”


End file.
